


We'll Always Have Paris

by KelliDiane



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Casablanca plays a huge part in this, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, M/M, Mentions of Death, most of it is basic, there's ton of french in this as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 15:19:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13638894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelliDiane/pseuds/KelliDiane
Summary: Louis frowns and looks down at his clothes. “Where am I supposed to go? I left my entire life for you. You asked me to leave everything behind to follow you here. I don’t have anyone. I haven’t talked to my family in years. I don’t have any friends in the area… You wouldn’t even let me get a job. Liam… I don’t have anywhere to go.”Looking at the his watch and huffing, Liam reaches for his wallet in his back pocket. “All I have in cash is two hundred euro. Get a hostel or something. Time is wasting. You better hurry and pack.”orLouis is trying to find his home, Niall just wants to help him, Liam doesn't like people taking what's his, Zayn is a moody barkeep, and Harry is the weird tea leave reading, klutz that just hangs around.





	We'll Always Have Paris

**Author's Note:**

> It is finished! So this story... Yikes. I originally was writing a Narry story for this, then I decided to turn that into a Zouis, and then this idea popped up and I couldn't finish the Zouis until this was written. I literally finished this about ten minutes ago. It just wouldn't leave me be. I might do another piece to this eventually, but who knows. Now, I'm going to go pass out.

"You’re an idiot if you thought I cared about you.”

Louis’ heart drops as he looks at his boyfriend. The moment those words left the other’s lips, Louis knew there was no going back. He hadn’t been oblivious to the whispered phone calls at three in the morning or the new set of bruises Liam would have after a long day at the office where he and Cheryl just had to stay late to work on the projections for the board.

He wasn’t oblivious, he just wished he had had the courage to leave before those words were hurled at him. He doesn’t even know how they got to this point.

“I guess I am an idiot.” He blinks hard, trying to keep the tears at bay as he grabs his robe from their shared closet. “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight and start looking for a new place to stay. I’ll be out of your hair by the end of the week.”

“Actually,” Liam’s voice is cold and angry, “I need you gone within the hour. Cheryl is on her way over and I promised her that you would be gone. I would take what you need for tonight and tomorrow and I’ll pack up your stuff tomorrow.”

Louis frowns and looks down at his clothes. “Where am I supposed to go? I left my entire life for you. You asked me to leave everything behind to follow you here. I don’t have anyone. I haven’t talked to my family in years. I don’t have any friends in the area… You wouldn’t even let me get a job. Liam… I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Looking at the his watch and huffing, Liam reaches for his wallet in his back pocket. “All I have in cash is two hundred euro. Get a hostel or something. Time is wasting. You better hurry and pack.”

\------------

Finding himself with nowhere to go, Louis slept in the train station.

When Liam had asked him to leave everything behind three years ago and move away with him, Louis had assumed the man meant to London or Birmingham or anywhere in the UK. Instead, Liam had whisked him away to Paris and Louis had never looked back. He hadn’t spoken to anyone from back home since that fateful night where he left his childhood home under the cover of darkness. He had changed his phone number and deleted all social media at Liam’s request. 

Now, he had a one-way ticket to London and he wasn’t quite sure what he would do once he was there. Out of the two hundred euro Liam had given him the night before, the train ticket had cost nearly all of it and after getting a croissant and coffee at the bakery across the street for breakfast he had only thirty left. The exchange rate would probably leave him with even less, but he’d figure that all out when he got to London.  
He had left a message at the apartment building for Liam to keep onto his stuff until he had found a place to settle down, but he didn’t have much hope the man would want to hold onto his stuff for very long. He knew he had to figure his life out and figure it out soon.

_“Embarquement à bord de l'Eurostar à destination de Londres, gare de Saint Pancras. Veuillez avoir vos billets prêts à l'embarquement. Now boarding the Eurostar to London, Saint Pancras station. Please have your tickets ready as you board.”_

Louis heaves a sigh and grabs the small overnight bag from the dirty station floor and pulls his ticket from his pocket. He moves on autopilot and barely even flinches as the man checks over his ticket and passport and waves him into the train car. He picks a eat as far away from the happy families and engrossed businessmen as he can and hopes this train ride takes forever so he can figure out what to do with himself once he gets to London.

He tries to access the internet, but gets an error message. Liam had already disconnected his number from the phone plan then. He tries to keep the tears at bay, but he can’t help the few that end up cascading down his face.

That’s when it hits him.

Liam is well and properly done with him.

\------------

Being shaken awake by one of the employees isn’t how Louis envisioned his grand return to London. His eyes are heavy and the dried tear tracks on his face cause for a bit of cracking as he yawns and tries to orient himself. He nods his thanks to the stewardess and quickly grabs his bag to disembark. The noise inside Saint Pancras is overwhelming and he winces a few times as the shriek of children’s laughter reaches his ears. It’s been well over three years since he’s set foot in his home country and he’s only been here for five minutes and he’s ready to run back to Paris- to Liam.

His stomach growls as the thought of Paris and fresh pastries and sweet caviar plays through his mind. He sighs as he realises that he can’t do anything in this god forsaken city until he at least changes his money over to the pound. He spots a currency exchange and makes his way over to the considerable queue that has formed.

It’s nearing that awkward time when it’s quite late for lunch, but not nearly late enough for dinner by the time he manages to come away with twenty-six pounds and a few pence. He figures he could probably do with a quick meal before trying to find a way back home to Northern England.

He makes his way out to the street and nearly heads right back inside. The horns of cars and taxis are blaring and people are shouting at one another and Louis can’t remember if this city has always been this way or not. Living with Liam in the 16th Arrondissement had been a life of luxury. He never had to drive himself anywhere- he either walked or had a chauffeur, he never had to watch how much he spent- his twenty thousand euros every two weeks from Liam assured he never wanted for anything, and he certainly never had to settle for a grimy pub food tucked away into the side of a train station wall- he can’t even remember the last time he hadn’t eaten a full four course meal that wasn’t breakfast.

He opens the door to the pub and recoils instantly from the smell of greasy food and stale beer. There’s an Arsenal and Manchester City game on multiple televisions around the bar and Louis wonders what kind of establishment he’s stumbled upon. None of the wineries back in Paris would be caught with even a radio playing- there was always a string quartet or nothing at all.

“Oi! It’s fucking freezing outside. Shut the damn door!”

Louis’ eyes widen as he steps inside and lets the door shut behind him. He swallows as he makes his way towards the bar and towards the man who had spoken so rudely to him. He’s even less impressed when he realizes it was the barkeep who spoke to him that way. “Do you speak to all patrons that way? If so, I can’t even fathom how you’re still in business.”

“Not all of them. Just prissy little boys who stepped off the train from France.” The young man glared as he wiped out a glass. “Now sit down, order your poison, and shut up.”

There’s a loud crashing sound behind him and shout of apology. Louis whirls around to find a rather tall and lanky man blushing furiously and dabbing at a woman’s blouse profusely. He is quickly waved off by the woman with a rather large smile and a soft squeeze to the arm before making his way towards the bar. “You should be kinder to our customers, Zayn. Besides, it’s not his fault. He isn’t used to English customs.”

A rather large hand is thrust in his direction, and Louis cautiously takes it in his own to shake it. “My name’s Harry, resident server and clumsiest person to ever hold down that specific job title. My record is five spilled trays in one day and that’s the least I’ve ever managed! And that pillock behind the bar is Zayn. He isn’t the most sociable barkeep we’ve ever had, but he does attract the women with his mysterious aura. He’s rather nice once you get to know him.”

“Uh,” Louis blinks a few times trying to take in everything Harry had just said. “My name’s Louis. I just need some food and a pint before trying to catch a train back North.”

Harry smiles brightly. “Absolutely! Our special today is the fish and chips with a cup of homemade soup. Throw in a pint of London Porter and you’ll right as rain. I’ll ring it in for you. Have a seat and get cosy. I’m sure it won’t take long. We just calmed down from the lunch rush so the kitchen should have that out in a tick.”

Louis doesn’t get a moment to protest as Harry heads off to the back, shouting the order through the kitchen door. He gingerly takes a seat on one the cushioned stools and tries his best out to touch anything so he didn’t cover his hands in grease and dirt. He looks down at the bar trying to think about his plans when a pint is slammed down in front of him and the foam sloshes over the rim.

“Let me know if need anything else. I’m going to be watching the game so try not to need anything.” Zayn, apparently, says as he turns his back to his only customer.

Seeing as he had no other options, Louis sips gingerly at the dark liquid in front of him and tries not to gag at the taste. It had been so long since he had anything other than wine or cider so the bitter taste of the porter didn’t sit well with him. He also forgot just how much he could feel the heavy drink in his stomach when there was nothing else in it. 

He tried watching the game, but his mind was elsewhere. He still wondered if leaving Paris was the right thing to do. Maybe Liam would change his mind and Louis could be back in his arms in no time. If he left, Liam wouldn’t be able to find him. He’d never get his life back. THen he thought about his phone. Surely he could still call Liam. Liam wouldn’t leave him without a means of contacting anyone.

A plate is set in front of him and that’s enough to startle him out of his reverie. The two large pieces of fried fish and portions of chips is enough to feed him for at least two meals, but then his soup is set down as well and Louis knows he’ll have leftovers for the train ride back North. “ _Merci_ , uh, I mean thank you.”

He starts to eat, starving now that he has food in front of him. He tries his best to not shovel the food into his face, but the croissant from this morning has long since left his system and he honestly is never going to see these people again so he figures a little bit of rude table manners aren’t going to kill him just this once. He flags the barkeep down and asks for a spot of tea as well. “You don’t happen to have Yorkshire all the way down here do you? It’s been ages since I’ve had a good cup of tea.”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “We’re a pub, mate. I can get you another pint, but if you want tea you should have gone across the street to the high class dining.”

“Another pint it is. Perhaps a cider this time? I’m not a huge fan of the heavier alcohols.”

Huffing, Zayn nods and goes about setting up a second pint for the lad.

It takes Louis all of fifteen minutes to finish his meal. He had thought it would be enough for two, but he must have been hungrier than he thought because he’s finished every bite and polished off the two pints he had been given. He burps lightly into his napkin, trying to keep it as quiet as he can for decorums sake. “I haven’t had fish and chips in years. Perfect first meal back in London.”

Harry comes by to collect his dishes and smiles brightly. “Glad you liked it. Our secret? Niall has us double fry it. Makes it greasier and helps to soak up the alcohol more- at least that’s what he says. Said that’s how they did it back at Temple Bar in Dublin. Honestly, I think he’s full of shit. He came from a small pub in an unknown town in Ireland. How would he know what they did at Temple Bar? He swears that you can taste the difference between a single and double fry I think he’s absolutely crazy. He’s just-”

“Talking shit about me, Styles?”

Harry whirls around, a smile so wide plastered onto his face. “All the time, boss.”

“Just clear the dishes and give the poor man his check. He doesn’t want to hear our life stories.”

Grabbing the dishes, Harry hums happily as he sets off back towards the kitchen. It’s quiet for all of two seconds before a loud crash is heard and the sound of breaking glass fills the pub. “Sorry!”

The newcomer rolls his eyes and heads over to the till to print out Louis’ receipt. “It’s so hard to find good help these days. Harry’s a charmer though. Couldn’t fire him if I wanted to.”

“Fire him? So I take you must be Niall that he was talking so loving about.”

“One and the same.” He passes the bill over to Louis and smiles smugly. “Heard him talking about our fish and chips recipe. Don’t go blabbing about our process. I’ll have to find you and string you up by your balls if you do.”

Louis chuckles and grabs his wallet from his small rucksack. “No worries. I’m heading up North tonight so you won’t have any competition from me.” He flips the bill over, smile fading as he takes in the total. “Oh…”

“Problem?” Niall asks as he watches the man’s demeanor change. He tenses a bit, hoping he wasn’t making small talk with someone who was going to end up running out before paying. He didn’t want to have to call the cops That was just too much paperwork to deal with.

“No. Well, not one you can help with. Don’t rightly suppose a ticket up north is around a pound is it?” Louis sighs, already know the answer.

Niall shakes his head. “I wish getting around this country was that cheap.”

“Didn’t think so,” Louis places twenty five pounds on the bill and pushes it back across the bar. “Do you know if the train station is open overnight? I need a place to sleep.”

“I mean you could try, but I’m sure they’ll kick you out. They don’t take too kindly to people loitering around.” Niall takes the money slowly, wondering what this guy’s story is. “Will you really only have a pound after paying for the food?”

Louis nods and makes to stand. “Unfortunately. I had two hundred euro to my name as of last night while I was standing in the Paris train station. At least, I’m sure Liam has frozen all my credit cards by now.”

“Sounds like a real predicament you’ve gotten yourself into. Well,” Zayn snatches the money from Niall’s hand and pops open the till to close out the tab, “good luck figuring out your situation.”

Grabbing his bag and ducking his head, Louis turns to make his way out of the pub.

“Wait.” Niall sighs as he thinks over his next few words carefully. “A ticket up North is around eighty pounds. Maybe you could stay with me and work here at the pub for a few days so you can save up enough to afford the fare.”

If there was one thing Louis couldn’t stand it was pity. Oh no, not him. He just needed to somehow get a message to his family and they’d just come and get him from London. Or, he’d call Liam and apologise for not being enough and beg to be taken back. Whichever seems more likely.

“I have a few connections in town,” Louis lies. He wouldn’t accept help from some stranger that merely wanted to be a hero to his sob story. “Thank you for the offer anyway.” With that he heads out of the pub and down the street.

\------------

The ringing in his ear was nauseating. He didn’t know if it was because he was anxious to hear Liam’s voice again or if he was sick just thinking about how he wasn’t good enough for the man. Whatever it was, it prevented him from breathing as Liam’s voice finally came through the receiver.

“ _Bonjour_?”

“L-Liam?”

There’s a heavy pause and then a sigh. “Louis, I thought I explained this to you. I just-”

“I’m sorry, Liam. Whatever I did, I’ll fix it. I’ll change. Whatever you need me to be, I’ll be.” Louis has to get this out. He has to let Liam know. “I’ll play the docile, dumb house husband. I’ll be your trophy husband or whatever they’re called. I’ll play any role you want me to play, just… Just let me come home. Please. I just want to be near you again. You might not care about me, but I love you.”

There’s a voice in the background. A distinctly female voice and Louis knows it’s Cheryl. She’s still there, in his house and probably in his bed since it’s nearing supper time in Paris and Liam always has a fag on the balcony right off their bedroom facing the Eiffel Tower right before dinner.

He can picture it, because he’s lived it. He knows exactly what Liam expects when he finally comes home from work. He knows that there is always a naked, willing body in Liam’s bed at this time. If it’s anything like when Louis first waited for Liam, Cheryl is trying to tease. She’s probably draped in Louis’ short silk bathroom with the sash undone so the sides fall gracefully apart at her slightest move. If she’s the same tanned skin tone then he knows the soft blue of the garment compliments her well. She’s probably wearing a gaudy diamond necklace to appear expensive and tasteful.

Too bad Liam will fuck her and break the fragile chain, sending diamonds all over the bed and floor.

Louis shakes his head and manages to focus again to hear Liam tell Cheryl to get on her knees. There’s a sharp intake of breath before Liam’s shaky voice is right in Louis’ ear again. “Louis, look. I don’t think this relationship was really good for either of us. You weren’t satisfying me and I… Well, I was perfect for you. Wasn’t I? It’s just- shit, just like that, babe. It’s just better for both of us this way. I get what I want and you get to go figure out your life.”

“But, Liam, I-”

“I’ve got to go. You’ve interrupted me at a very important time. Goodbye, Louis.”

There’s a click and a few seconds before the dial tone rings in Louis’ ear.

\------------

It’s raining.

Of course, it’s raining; it’s fucking London. Louis hadn’t prepared for rain so he’s now cold and miserable and wet. It seems to be his lot in life now. He still can’t believe that Liam was actually done with him.

Liam has thrown him out of their room for a night before when he’s wanted someone else instead of Louis, but he’s never thrown him out for longer than that. He had been hoping that this infatuation with Cheryl was just that- an infatuation. He never thought that she would actually steal his life and maybe give Liam something he couldn’t. The thought never even cross-

“Hey.”

Louis looks up and sees Niall standing in front of him, an umbrella held over them to keep the rain out of their faces. He blushes at seeing the familiar face and wipes furiously at his eyes, hoping he’s managed to mask the tears as rain. “Oh, um, _bonjour_.”

Rolling his eyes at the French, Niall huffs. “So… Do you still need a place to stay?”

\------------

“I know it isn’t much, but I usually don’t have people over so…”

Louis looks around and scrunches his nose. He’s not used to apartments being this small anymore. Niall’s entire home could fit in his living room back in Paris. “It’s… Clean.” He strips off his jacket, unsure of where to put it since it’s still sopping wet.

Niall takes the coat from his hands and motions for Louis to follow him. “I have a towel warmer in the bathroom where you can hang your wet clothes so they’ll dry a bit faster. Uh, if you want a shower to warm up, I can get you a spare towel. I can also lend you some clothes if you need some for tonight. I can gather that there probably isn’t much in your rucksack.”

“That… That would be lovely if you don’t mind.” Toeing off his shoes, Louis tries to keep as much water of the floor as possible. He doesn’t want to dirty up Niall’s flat and have the man become angry with him.

Trading out a dry towel for the wet shoes, Niall smiles lightly and tells his guest that the shampoo and everything in the shower is open for his use. He tries his best to give the stranger another reassuring smile before he shuts the door to the bathroom and is plunged into darkness and silence.

He waits until he hears the sound of the shower running before heaving a heavy sigh. “Shake it off, Niall. You offered up your home. You can’t back out now.” He heads back to the front door and opens it to drop the wet shoes outside. He catches the brand name on the tongue and nearly chokes on the name staring up at him- _Valentino_.

Jesus. He could sell these things at half price and still pay for his flat for a good month or two. What was this stranger who couldn’t even afford an eighty pound train fare doing with these kind of shoes? He leaves them by his door, tucked away into the corner so no one would try to take them as they dried.

Just who did he invite into his flat?

\------------

Louis feels a bit more human after his shower. He’s warm and tired, but despite the warm and soft vibes he’s getting from the cosy home he’s terribly upset still about the last twenty four hours of his life. How does one cope from having everything to having it all ripped away?

He dresses quickly in the clothes he ses left for him on the sink and he wonders just when Niall snuck in to deliver them. It doesn’t much matter. The sweatpants are a little long and terribly baggy on him. If it wasn’t for the drawstring, they’d fall off of his frame with every step. The shirt, while a bit big, was a cosy white long sleeved henley that Louis curled up in easily. Realising that he had nothing else to distract himself with, he steadies himself for his first real meeting with Niall that wasn’t in public.

The light to the kitchen is on and the soft sound of Frank Sinatra can be heard wafting through the air, so Louis follows that. He sees Niall in an outfit much similar to his own and the brunette boy his pouring water into two cups on the counter.

Niall looks up to see his guest lingering in the entrance to the kitchen. He smiles and waves him in. “Figured a nice warm cup of tea would hit the spot. It stopped raining at least, but the wind has picked up something fierce. Reckon tomorrow is going to be rather frigid.” He pushes the cup over towards Louis and gestures to an assortment of tea bags laid out on the counter. “Unless you prefer something else?”

“No,” Louis spots a lone bag of Yorkshire and snatches it up quickly. “Tea is great. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a truly good cup of tea. I always asked for one in France, but their tea just isn’t the same. Their coffee though is to die for. And if I wasn’t drinking coffee, I was drinking wine.”

Niall quirks an eyebrow. “Wine you say? What’s the best wine you’ve had then?”

“Armand de Brignac Brut Rose Champagne. It’s around ten thousand euro for a six litre bottle, but when it’s only you and one other person that can last you the night.” Louis finishes preparing his tea and takes a hearty sip, humming at the taste of the bitter drink in his mouth. “This is just as good as I remember.”

He has so many questions he wants to ask, but Niall figures that one thirty in the morning isn’t the time to really ask them. Luckily, he has the day off tomorrow and Zayn has strict instructions not to call him unless it’s an absolute emergency. “Um, I’ve changed the sheets on my bed so you can sleep there tonight. I have the day off tomorrow so we can try and sort out what to do and what we can do to help you out then. I’ll take the couch since it’s not really that comfy.”

The abrupt change of topic takes Louis by surprise. “Oh. Right. Well thank you. I’m sure your bed will be just lovely.” He takes another sip of his tea, wanting to finish quickly now that the offer of sleep has been handed to him. “Didn’t sleep much last night. The Paris train station may stay open and offer refuge, but the benches are not as comfy as they look and that’s saying something because they look downright distressing.”

Niall does have to laugh at that. At least Louis seemed like an agreeable lad. “Well, it’s all yours when you’re ready for it.” He takes the last long sip from his own mug and sets it in the sink, leaves and all. “Just leave your mug in the sink. You can rinse yours if you want, but be careful not to mess up my leaves. Harry is trying his hand at tea reading so I promised him I’d bring him a cup to read next shift. The stuff is bloody awful so I don’t really want to have to brew another cup.”

“Will do. Good night, Niall.”

“Night, Louis.”

\------------

The next morning, Louis is awoken by the sounds of London. He doesn’t like it one bit.

He rubs at his eyes and takes in his surroundings. He didn’t get a chance to snoop on his host much the night before due to the fact that he was so knackered. He again noticed the pristine condition of the flat though. Everything seemed clean and properly put away. The design of everything was so sleek and modern. Honestly, if Louis didn’t know Niall lived here, he would say this was a showing apartment or something straight off Pinterest- right down to the hanging plants and succulents.

Getting up, he makes the bed as best he can before he heads out into the hall. Once again, the sound of Frank Sinatra lures him towards the kitchen. This time however, Frank isn’t singing alone. There’s a much thicker, guttural accent belting out the words alongside Ol’ Blue Eyes.

_“Once I get you up there,_  
Where the air is rarefied  
We'll just glide  
Starry eyed  
Once I get you up there  
I'll be holding you so near  
You may hear the angels cheer  
Just because we're together” 

Louis smiles softly and listens as Niall sings and dances around the kitchen grabbing dishes and spices as he goes. It’s wonderfully domestic and Louis wonders if Niall has ever had a dance partner to do this blissfully subdued routine.

“Oh! Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

Coming back to his senses, Louis can see the grint smile gracing Niall’s face. “Morning, Ol’ Blue Eyes.”

Niall’s laughter reverberates through the entire flat, bouncing off the exposed whitewashed brick and making the home seem bigger than it actually is. “Technically we only have another hour of morning left, but you did say you didn’t sleep well two nights ago so I figured letting you sleep would be best. I was just whipping up some eggs and bacon for you though. Perfect timing honestly.”

Louis smiles shyly and thanks his host for making him food before sitting down at the breakfast bar. “You wouldn’t happen to have anymore Yorkshire Tea would you?”

“Unfortunately, no. That was my last bag last night. I should get more before Zayn comes over again. It’s all he’ll drink. Bloody northerner that he is.” Niall reaches into a different cabinet and produces a large box with a very nan-esque pattern on it. He opens it to proudly display a wide variety of different teas. “Any of these catch your fancy though? If none of these are up to par, I have enough of that wonderful loose leaf Harry gave me for reading leaves. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled at having another cup to read, especially one where he doesn’t actually know the person he’s reading for.”

“Sounds like it could be a laugh. The Gypsies in Paris asked for twenty euros for a tea reading and most of the time their readings were a load of _merde_. Still went to them though when you needed something cleansed.” Louis doesn’t pretend to understand the superstitious side of Paris. Apparently being built on a mass grave bothered some people, but Louis never believed in the lore.

Twenty minutes later, the two are on the couch trying to figure out what Louis was going to do.

“I don’t have anything except what was in that bag. My departure from France wasn’t exactly by choice. It was more or less because I had nowhere to go. Where else does one go besides home when they have nothing left?” Louis shrugs.

“So,” Niall frowns, “you don’t even have enough clothes for more than today.”

Louis nods. “I told Liam that once I knew for sure where he could send my things that I would tell him, but I don’t know if he even will.”

“Who’s Liam? Is he a friend back in Paris?”

“He was my lover.” Louis won’t say anymore. It’s still too fresh and he doesn’t want to think about that French whore and his wonderful _gâteau sucré_. In fact, he doesn’t want to think about his current predicament that this moment. “How about a film?”

Niall tries not to let the change of conversation throw him. He understands tough breakups, but this seemed bad if Louis had to leave the country. “Oh, uh, sure. I don’t really watch many so whatever you want is fine.”

“Maybe a classic. Oh! Or a French film. French films are always the best. Of course, I’ll put subtitles on for you- unless you speak fluent French?” Louis is already scrolling through his streaming services on his phone. “Oh! They have _Le quai des brumes_! That’s a good one for sure. But also, Casablanca. Classic choice. Humphrey Bogart is the man I always wanted to find.”

Setting up the television to pick up Louis’ device, Niall just settles in to watch a film in a language he doesn’t understand.

\------------

Niall yawns as the credits roll. He hadn’t really understood anything that happened in the movie, but Louis was happy and dabbing at his eyes. “It’s just so romantic. Granted there’s no real happy ending, but that’s life. _N'est-ce pas_? Sometimes I wish to live in 1920 and 30’s Paris, but then I remember that I would not have a lot of the comforts I like now and I have back to being happy with when I was born.”

Shrugging, Niall stretches and looks at the time. “I’m a bit hungry. Are you up for an early dinner?”

“How could you possibly think about food at a time like this? Did you not just watch the same movie I did?” Louis doesn’t understand how Niall isn’t a sobbing mess on the floor.

“I mean, I don’t speak French so I have no clue what happened in the movie. All I understood was that he found a dog, killed a guy, and then he was killed.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “There’s so much more to it than that! He was going to leave Paris and sail to Venezuela! He was going to leave her behind, but he couldn’t. He loved her so much. He came back for her and saved her. Then right as they are set to get their happy ending, he’s shot in the back. _Oh la tragédie_!”

“Yeah,” Niall rolls his eyes, “next time let’s pick a movie we can all understand. You kept talking about Casablanca. I’ve never seen that one.” He gets up and heads to the kitchen to try and find something for them to eat.

“You’ve never seen Casablanca? Niall, _pour la honte_! We will watch it because everyone should see that movie at least once. It is a crucial movie in cinematic history.” Louis follows him to the kitchen. He scrunches his nose as he sees Niall fiddling with his ipod once more. “More Frank Sinatra? How can you listen to such good music, but never have seen Casablanca?”

Niall picks Dean Martin out of spite. “Quite easily actually. I don’t watch movies. Well, unless someone is over and wants to watch one or something to that effect. I’ve never really saw the point in sitting for ninety minutes or more to watch a story when you can listen to one with more depth and emotion in the short amount of time it takes for someone sing.”

Louis perches himself on the counter out of the way as he watches Niall begin to pull out ingredients for… Well, whatever he was making. Louis wasn’t a chef by any stretch of the imagination so he wasn’t even going to question the brunette. “What’s the last movie you saw before the one I just made you watch?”

“Love, Actually? Maybe? I don’t know. It was at Christmas though and Harry always makes us watch that every year. Before that… Probably Love, Actually the previous Christmas.” Niall shrugs as starts to measure out what he’ll need.

“Previous… It’s February! You mean to tell me you haven’t sat down and watched a movie in well over a month?”

Rolling his eyes (something he thinks he’ll be doing quite a bit of if he is to keep Louis as his company), Niall nods. “I told you. I don’t get movies. Now listen to this song. I’m thinking it’s your theme song, Frenchie.”

Louis scoffs, but he does listen. The voice is different than Sinatra’s, but it holds the same smooth quality and jazzy reverb. He thinks it must be another rat pack member, but he isn’t positive. The lyrics though hit a little too close to home.

_“Oh, ho_  
How would you like to be  
Down by the Seine with me  
Oh, what I'd give for a moment or two  
Under the bridges of Paris with you  
Darling, I'd hold you tight  
Far from the eyes of night  
Under the bridges of Paris with you  
I'd make your dreams come true” 

Silence envelops the room as the song ends and immediately goes to the next track.

Louis is shifting uncomfortable as he finally places the song. Liam had sung that song to him three years ago as they danced in the streets of Doncaster under the moonlight. The night before he left his family without a trace and fled his hometown to become a Parisian housewife. He clears his throat from the build up of emotion. “Dean Martin. Wonderful choice. Surprised it isn’t Sinatra. Shows you have good taste though.”

Niall can hear the defensive and closed off tone in his voice. “You know, I’ve always wanted to go to Paris. See the Eiffel Tower and Versailles and the Louvre. What’s it like? I mean, you get all these packaged images of a city filled with love, but Paris can’t be all that.”

“It is,” Louis whispers. “It really is. The old architecture makes you feel like you’re in a fairytale and the atmosphere is just so different. People always say how rude Parisians are and, yes, they can be, but the people of London are no different. It just depends. If you find the hole in the wall, off the beaten path type places Paris will be your best friend. _La Basilique du Sacré-Cœur_ is the tallest point in Paris and the surrounding cityscape is, eh, _magnifique_. Local artisans always have their work on blankets just outside the doors and you can buy these wonderful works of art, but you must be careful not be caught by the police. It is considered a crime to have a business transaction of any kind there as it is still a place of worship. At night, you can look out over the city and see why Paris is called _la Ville des Lumières_. It’s breathtaking. One of the most amazing sights I’ve ever seen.

“Then of course there is Notre-Dame. An amazing cathedral to just… Sit and look at. It makes you feel significantly small in the shadow of its history and just the mere stories that come out of its walls. The Disney version is not one hundred percent accurate, but at least the story is being told.” Louis smiles and winks. “The architecture alone is intricate and enough reason for it to be celebrated. Notre-Dame sparks the imagination of many though. You can see it looming from the Seine or simply walk to it down one of the boulevards.”

Niall pops his creation into the oven and turns to face his guest. The music still plays dimly in the background as a sort of white noise to keep the apartment silence free. Louis’ voice isn’t much louder and Niall can tell from look on the man’s face that he already misses the city he called home. “What about going back? Couldn’t you go back and live there once more?”

Louis shakes his head sadly. “I’m actually surprised I lived there as long as I did. I didn’t have my passport when Liam and I moved there. He paid off the security guards checking passports in both countries. I have a French passport, but it isn’t official. Liam had someone he knew make a fake one for me. I was lucky enough to have a French looking name already even though before I went to France everyone pronounced my name as _Lewis_. It’s crazy what a quick change in pronunciation can do for you.”

“This Liam character seems kind of shifty. Why would you ever associate yourself with someone like that?”

“Because I love him and he loves… Well, I thought he loved me.”

The mood in the room once more takes a drastic turn towards despair and Niall has never been more thankful for the ding of an oven in his life. “Perfect. I’ll serve up the food if you grab the drinks. The wine glasses are in the cupboard under you. There’s a bottle of Pinot Grigio in the fridge. It’s Barefoot, so it may not be up to your standards, but it’s wine nonetheless.”

Louis smiles as he goes to grab the chilled drink.

\------------

Niall awakes the next morning with a killer headache. The first thing he notices though, is that he’s in his room. That’s not so much the confusing part, but Louis pressed against him seems to be the more confusing matter. Much to his relief, he does notice that they are both wearing their pants. It is a bit embarrassing however, when he can feel his morning wood pressed against his bed companion. In an effort not to awake Louis, he carefully tries to crawl from his bed.

“You’re finally awake. Thank god. If I had to spend another hour with your _petit toi_ pressed against me I was going to scream.”

Stumbling over his own feet a the sound of Louis’ voice, Niall lands hard on the plank flooring of his bedroom. “Shit. Sorry. I wasn’t expecting… Well… Um, nothing happened last night, right?”

Louis rolls over so he can peek at his host over the side of the bed. The pristine white sheets drape lazily over his body as he twists and turns across the mattress. “Ah, no. It seems that three glasses of wine is your limit though. You started to complain about the lumpiness of your couch and how uncomfortable it was to sleep on so I invited you to share with me.”

“Right…” Niall looks around his floor for his shirt and slips it over his head once he finds it. “What time is it anyway?”

“Ten-thirty. You’ve got a text from someone named Ed as well. Said he’s come down with the flu and won’t be in today. I’m assuming it was about the pub and not some sort of prostitution of friends with benefits type situation. If it was though, shame on you for not alerting your houseguest. I am a man of many things, but a _ménage à trois_ is not one of them.” Louis stretches lazily and snuggles deeper into the tangle of sheets and duvet as he watches Niall hop around the room pulling clothes on.

“No, no, no. Ed is a waiter at the pub. Fuck!” Niall, who had made his way to his feet, finds himself back on the floor after losing a match with gravity while trying to put on his sock. “Harry is in today, but I need someone competent and charismatic to help him since Harry is literally the clumsiest person I have ever met.”

Louis hums as he slips his eyes closed to try and fall back asleep. He wants a few more hours of soaking up the sun before properly moving. “Well, good luck with that.”

Niall is ready to say something snarky back to his guest when the idea hits him. “I don’t need luck. I have you.”

“ _Excusez-moi_? No. I don’t know the first thing about being a waiter. You are out of your depths here.”

“Louis,” Niall says, voice a bit more stern than his usual voice, “you need money for a ticket north? This is how you get it. Come work in the pub for a week and you’ll have enough for the train fare and a little extra.”

Louis tries to think of a way to make the money without actually doing anything. He knows it’s a lost cause and that Niall was actually offering him the best solution, but a pub? He has no experience on how to even act in a pub, let alone work in one. He figures though that if a pub employees the likes of Harry, it mustn’t be too hard. “Fine. Um, do you have any clothes I can borrow? My only outfit is expensive clothes that mustn’t get ruined. They’re Chanel.”

Niall barks out a laugh at the absurd complexities of his new houseguest. “Chanel to match the Valentino sneakers outside my door?”

“Now you’re catching on,” Louis says with a smile.

\------------

“Table ten’s food is up.”

Louis looks at the four plates of food in the kitchen window before frowning. “Two questions. Which one is table ten and how am I supposed to carry all this at once?”

Harry smiles while Louis can practically hear Zayn’s eye roll from here. “Don’t worry. I don’t know the table numbers that well either. I try to strike up a conversation and memorise someone’s name from the table or a distinct feature. For example, table ten has the woman with fantastically teased out hair and her name is Margie. As for how to carry them, grab a tray and stand and go. It’s not terribly hard to pick up on as long as you aren’t a klutz like I am.”

“Right,” Louis blinks and grabs what he’ll need before carefully balancing everything on his tray. Harry is right there behind him every step to the table, but he manages to make it without incident and soon enough the woman at the table happily start to eat. “Let me know if you ladies need anything, _approuvé_?”

The woman chuckle and nod, blushing and waving him away.

“How’s he doing?” NIall quietly asks Zayn from across the room. He hasn’t heard an excessive amount of broken glass so he figures that Louis isn’t doing any worse than Harry.

Zayn shrugs and watches the petite boy go around to check on his other patrons. “He’s actually really good at this- practically a natural. He’s a lot less clumsier than Harry so he’s got that going for him. The ladies are in love with him since he is easy on the eyes and the random bits of French he slips into conversation help as well. I’ve watched more than a few women slip a cheeky pound or two into his back pocket while he isn’t paying attention.”

Niall nods, pleased that his gamble on bringing Louis here seemed to pay off. “Good. He’ll be here about a week before he heads back North. Wanted to make sure the pub would stay standing in that time.”

“Speaking about the pub, how much is left till you buy this place off the old codder? Heard the bank is trying to take possession once he keels over. If they get ahold of the deed, they’ll send the property price through the roof.” Zayn wipes out another glasses as he looks to the opening door of the establishment.

“Another five thousand and it’s mine. Just about a month. Well, probably a little more now that I’ve got Louis. I figured my expenses for the week are going to double, plus he’s technically not a regular employee so I’m paying him out of my paycheck so you have to take that out as well.” 

“Christ,” Zayn mutters. Half in disbelief that Niall would do all this for someone he barely knows and half out of annoyance as the newcomers saunter their way up to the bar. “You better hope he’s a good one then. I’ve had a bad feeling about him since he walked through that door.”

\------------

It’s past closing time and Harry is sitting at the bar with three cups lined up in front of him and a flimsy paperback resting on his lap. He’s staring intently into one and twisting and turning it to try and see the contents a bit better. “I see… Seaweed, several little heads, and a water lily. Um,” he flips the pages of his book carefully. “So, the water lily means a declaration of love. Oh! Maybe one of your lovers will finally become permanent!”

“Not likely,” Zayn huffs. “Keep reading.”

“Right. The seaweed denotes a joy in the past of which only the memory remains. So something that made you extremely happy in the past that you can’t get or achieve anymore is going to make you happy again? And… Little heads… Ah, a sign of being mentally distressed.”

“Well we already knew that.” Niall counters, laughing at his friend. He claps Zayn good naturedly on the shoulder.

Zayn chuckles. “Don’t laugh at me. He’s still got to read your cup. I hope yours is something terrible.”

Harry reaches for Niall’s cup and looks into it. He groans at the simplicity of the shapes in front of him. “Why is your tea cup just as simple as you are? You need to start making bold choices or something.”

Niall shrugs. “I’m a simple man. I know what I want and I want what I need.”

“Yeah, well, take your belladonna lily and get out of my face. It’s a sign of hope, love, happiness, and the leading of an upright and honourable life according to the book. Fuck off.” Harry pushes the disappointing cup away with a pout before realising that he still has Louis’ cup to read. “This one will be best. My judgement will be clear since I have no attachment to you. This is like, my first proper reading.”

He grabs the cup quickly and stares into it. He notices that this mug is a bit bigger than Niall’s or Zayn’s so he’s hoping for a few good symbols to try and figure out this stranger. He isn’t disappointed. “Hmmm… Well, Niall gave you a much bigger cup so there are four or five distinct shapes in here. Let me see what I can decipher.”

Louis, who had been sitting at the table next to the bar and picking at his nails disinterestedly, finally perks up a bit. He’s hoping for any kind of sign that he’s meant to be in Paris still. Even if Liam had made it quite clear he was not wanted, he still held out hope.

“There’s an ace of hearts, lovely. Means you are more than happy in the home. Probably means a very domestic future for you.” Harry turns the cup to the side, squinting. “Looks like a sprig of hemlock as well. Which means,” he turns a few pages in his book. “‘The shadows of your past life have an inconvenient habit of appearing at the most awkward moments.’ That could be fun. A slight mystery in your leaves. Then there’s a pair of trousers- usually means misfortune. And finally, a pelican. An unfortunate symbol for loneliness and separation.”

The room is silent for a few seconds before Niall lets out a low whistle. “Well, luckily you don’t put much stock in the superstitious. You said that last night, yeah?”

Louis blinks a few times, clearing his throat as he tries not to overthink the meaning behind Harry’s words. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. It’s just a silly little game.” He tries his best to smile as he stands. “Perhaps we could continue this another night? I’m rather tired. My first day of work ever and I go home smelling of alcohol and smoke. Perfect.”

They all bid each other good night, leaving the cups on the bar until tomorrow.

Harry, however, missed a sign in Louis leaves. Tucked into the corner of the leaves, a tiny ring symbol goes unread- a symbol of love and a wedding.

\------------

Louis and Niall collapse onto the lumpy couch in Niall’s living room the next night after another long day at the pub. Niall has never been more thankful that he gave himself off the following day which, by extension, meant Louis had off as well. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more hectic night at that pub.”

“Well, it’s the Olympics. What did you expect?” Louis kicks off his shoes, a pair that Zayn was lending him since the Valentino’s didn’t really offer much in the way of comfort and support for a day spent on your feet. “Everyone here suddenly cares about King and Country when the Olympics come around. Besides, you didn’t get dirty looks for shouting, _‘Pour l'histoire et pour la France!’_ in the middle of the pub.”

“Guess we still don’t like the French.” Niall says with a shrug.

“You’re not even bloody English!” Louis laughs loudly at his host.

For his part, Niall doesn’t even look abashed. He stands, moaning as every muscle and joint in his body protest at the movement, but he makes his way to the kitchen. “I’m grabbing a beer. Would you like one as well? We killed off all the wine I had the other night so I only have lager and stouts, but it’s better than nothing.”

Louis makes an affirming noise in the back of his throat as he stares at the blank television in front of him. “Shall we watch another movie? Another French film perhaps?”

“As long as there’s subtitles this time.”

Smiling softly, Louis starts to scroll through his phone searching for the perfect movie. He almost picks Casablanca, but something tells him not yet. He shakes off the inner voice and continues to look at his choices. He laughs as he finally settles on a film. “It’s time to introduce you to _La Ronde_. A wonderful film about the nightlife in Paris. It doesn’t have subtitles, but it is much easier to follow than the last one.”

Making his way back to the couch with an entire six pack, Niall plops down next to Louis. He opens them each a beer and sits back as the film flickers to a start.  
\------------ 

“Is that really what the nightlife in Paris is like?” Niall can’t believe he just watched ninety minutes of Parisians fucking each other until finally coming full circle and having the last man fucking the prostitute that started it all.

Louis giggles. “Depends on which part of Paris you are in. Like most cities we have our secrets, but the Moulin Rouge is not really a secret. I always thought it was funny how prostitution is looked down upon in France, but the police don’t go into the Moulin Rouge. I don’t understand why they don’t go in and bust all of the _prostituées_ and clients. Then again, it’s supposed to be a tourist trap. Men go in expecting _prostituées_ and they find just your run of the mill French dancers. If you know where to look inside the cabaret, then you’ll find the _prostituées_.” He sets his empty bottle onto the table next to the other two he had managed to drink as well.

Niall smiles and relaxes as he turns to look at the blue eyed boy. “Did you live near the Moulin Rouge then?”

“No. No, and I never set foot in there.” Louis shakes his head. “I lived in _Trocadero_ on the border of the sixteenth and first arrondissement. Moulin Rouge is near _Montmartre_ in the eighteenth arrondissement. Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, it’s a fifteen minute walk from _La Basilique du Sacré-Cœur_. No. I lived away from there. You could see the Eiffel Tower from my bedroom window.”

Not knowing where anything Louis was talking about actually was in Paris, Niall just nods. He wonders if the upkick in French words Louis was spewing was because of the alcohol or because he didn’t know the English translation. He also wondered how Louis knew so much about the Moulin Rouge if he hadn’t been there.

His thoughts must tumble out because Louis is soon answering his question.

“I only know about such a place because of Liam. He would constantly tell me that I did not satisfy him enough and that he would just have to get his fill in other ways. He would claim an important client needed to be shown a good time, but the receipts and the bite marks told a different story.” Louis swallows hard at the thought. “I guess he finally got tired of fucking his whores in a place that wasn’t his home. He would come home late with a lady on his arm and throw open the bedroom doors and wake me up. He would tell me that I was to sleep down the hall that night and he would fuck the filthy slut in our bed.

“As if that weren’t enough, I would always have to face them in the morning. I would be in the kitchen cooking breakfast for him and his whores would traipse through and grab a croissant on there way out. Some seemed abashed, but most just didn’t care. I was technically the lady of the house and they had no shame leaving my room after getting fucked by my Liam.” Louis closed his eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. He had pleaded with Liam to stop bringing them to their house, but to no avail. “Then Liam would expect me to just sleep in our bed the next night like nothing happened. The sheets wouldn’t be changed and it was a nightmare. I could practically feel their- their- their _actes obscènes_ sinking into my skin. It was awful.”

Niall frowns at the sudden heavy subject. He hadn’t meant for Louis to talk about his torturous relationship. “Louis…”

“The worst part,” Louis continues on. His voice cracks and his tears start to fall. “The worst part is I thought it was over. He stopped bringing them home. He was happier suddenly. I thought maybe he had just needed to get that out of himself. I was wrong. He was no longer fucking random whores. He was fucking his secretary. At least with the whores there was no connection besides the physical. I ignored it for as long as I could though. In fact, I ignored it up until he threw me out. He threw me out and now he’s with her.”

Not knowing how to really comfort the boy, Niall pulls him close and holds him tightly. “You’re going to be okay. You’re a wonderfully sweet person who deserves better. Don’t cry over him.”

Louis just clings tightly to Niall not wanting to let go and not wanting to be alone.

\------------

“I feel bad continuing to borrow your clothes. I should just call Liam and have him send my things to your flat.” Louis grabs three boxes of Yorkshire Tea from the shelf. He had accompanied Niall out to Tesco for the weekly shopping trip and all he’s done is put bottles on wine into the cart and talk Niall’s ear off about quality wine.

This morning had been a little edgy since Louis had spilled his life story the night before, but Niall had tried to reassure him that he didn’t really care that Louis had had a small breakdown. If fact, he pushed Louis to try and see his tears and talking as a good thing. Louis couldn’t heal until he talked about it. That’s how Niall had ended up with a Louis shaped shadow all day- not that he really minded.

Grabbing a few boxes of penne pasta, Niall nod. “If you think that’s best then absolutely. Besides, it’s better for him to only have to ship to London rather than all the way North.”

“Perfect. I’ll call him once we are home then.”

Niall tries not to smile when Louis calls his flat ‘home’.

\------------

Niall listens in amusement as Louis conducts the whole phone call to Liam in French. He knew in theory that the man had to be fluent in it, but hearing a few words every now and then in conversation versus the language being tossed around easily? He has to admit that he does like the way the words roll out of Louis’ mouth.

“ _J'ai du travail demain donc vous devrez le livrer avant midi jeudi. J'ai juste besoin de mes vêtements. Oh, et je veux une broche en saphir que tu m'as achetée pour mon anniversaire - pas celle en or blanc, celle en platine. Elle peut avoir les diamants et ta précieuse bite. Dieu sait que vous avez probablement déjà intégré votre bite en elle déjà assez_.”

It’s silent for a moment before Louis rolls his eyes. “ _Bien. Merci beaucoup. Plaisir de faire des affaires avec vous_.”

Niall quirks an eyebrow at Louis once the phone is hung up. “I had no clue what you were saying, but I must admit you sound damn good speaking French. Were you fluent before you moved there.”

“No, but you learn very quickly when it’s literally all anyone minus your boyfriend speaks. It was either learn or be shut up in the apartment and be a hermit.” Louis smiles brightly and grabs his glass of wine he had poured before making the call. “I told him that I wanted my clothes delivered here before noon on Thursday and that I wanted nothing more than my clothes. Well, I also demanded the brooch he gave me for my birthday, but I told him that Cheryl could keep the diamonds. She’ll need to have one for her finger soon since he’s fucking her and he doesn’t like to use protection.”

“Jesus.” Niall laughs raucously from his seat. “You go take a shower and I’ll start dinner. I think it’s a perfect night for pasta.”

Louis nods. “You just want me gone so you can play your silly rat pack music.”

Niall’s smile is bright and dazzling as he looks at Louis, fondness in his eyes. “You caught me.”

\------------

The next day they’re back at work. The pub is once again filled to capacity with people cheering on Team Great Britain. Louis rolls his eyes good naturedly and takes the ribbing from a few patrons who had been there previous nights gave him when France lost the Bronze figure skating medal to China. “Don’t worry. We’ll come back. We always do. _Vive la France_!”

The pub is actually faring well and Harry, bless him, had only dropped one tray so far today. Niall counts it as a success.

It’s about an hour from closing when the atmosphere takes a turn. A group of rowdy rugby boys make their way inside and sit themselves down in Louis area and immediately start banging on the table looking for service.

“Oi,” Zayn catches Louis as he heads their way, “be careful. They’re already a bit pissed. Probably got thrown out of the pub across the way. If you can, get them to leave. If not, they’re each limited to one drink.”

Louis nods and looks across the room to see Niall talking happily with other customers, but can tell he’s throwing the boys some wary glances. He scoffs and heads over like he would any other table. “Kitchen’s closed for the night. If you’re looking for food, you can clear out.”

“Oooooh, since when did this place hire a frog?” One of the boys laughed loudly, causing every eye in the place to turn towards the ruckus. “Where’s the other waiter? I don’t want to even talk to this crouton.”

Harry peeks his head out of the kitchen ready to intervene. He knows how to disarm these kinds of people.

Louis stands up straight, not going to let their ignorance stop him. “He’s off for the night. You’ll have to deal with me or not be served.”

The table laughs again, slamming their hand against the solid wood of the table. “Looks like Kermit here has some balls. Guess someone in their slimy country had to have them.” The one stands up and towers over Louis, looking down at him in disgust. “Look, just get me a different server and everything will be fine.”

“And I told you that I’m the only one here tonight so you’ll have to pull your chauvinistic head out of your ass for the hour we have until closing if you even want to think about ordering a drink.” Louis doesn’t back down. He won’t let some rowdyruff boy dictate this job to him.

It’s silent until the leader turns to the others at his table and they all seem to shrug in agreement. The leader smiles and turns back to Louis. Without warning, he punches the smaller male square in the jaw.

Niall is making his way over immediately, yelling at the table to clear out. The other patrons around are heckling the newcomers and spitting insults at them. Even through all of that, they only leave once Zayn threatens to call the cops.

Louis is still on the floor, cradling his jaw with one hand and trying not to cry from the pain that’s blossoming across the lower half of his face. His vision is a bit blurry, but he’s pretty sure that’s from hitting his head on the table behind him as he fell.

“Louis? Louis, are you okay? Can you hear me? Louis?” Niall is by his side as soon as the cretans leave and he’s trying to help the beaten man to his feet. “You’re alright. Come on. Let’s get you to the back.”

Zayn apologises to the rest of the customers, but tells them all to finish their pints and fuck off. Many do so and stop by the bar to drop a couple pounds into Louis’ tip jar for good measure.

“Just not right. He’s a good lad. Sure, he might be French, but he’s got a heart of gold. Just not right at all.” One says to Zayn as he drops a twenty pound note into Louis’ jar and a fiver in everyone else’s.

Once the pub is cleared out, Zayn and Harry make quick work of the washing up and cleaning, desperate to head in the back and check on their friend. “Is he okay? Should we call an ambulance? Does he need to go to A&E?”

“He’s fine,” Niall says quietly as he tries to calm Harry down. “He’s got a bit of a headache, but I don’t think he’s concussed or anything. I’m just going to take him home and have him get some sleep.”

Zayn nods in agreement. “Good idea. Text us if something happens or you need help. I’ll get Harry home to Emma. I’m sure she somehow already knows about the whole thing. I swear she’s got surveillance on Harry at all times. Makes sense though with how fucking clumsy he is.”

“And just how high a profile she has.” Niall doesn’t doubted that Zayn is right. Harry gave up a lot when his longtime girlfriend made it to the House of Commons and he’s sure privacy is one of them. “Get him home to his missus. I’ll let you know tomorrow if Louis is coming into work.”

They all lock up and part ways, hoping that everyone makes it home safely.

\------------

Niall is lying in bed next to Louis, apologising again for the actions of the man who hit him. “We’ve never had something like that happen at the pub. I can’t believe he just punched you. I’m going to start hiring bouncers Just for the night shifts. I can’t have you getting hurt again. Harry and Zayn can hold their own, I know that much, but I don’t want you-”

“I’m fine.” Louis says as he rolls onto his side to face Niall. “Besides, I only have a few more days left. Don’t go making permanent changes because I’m there. Once this week is up, I call my family and I go home to them. Remember that.”

“I know, but you could have been seriously hurt. And what if I hire another employee after you leave who’s tinier or something? I have to make sure they’re safe. And what if-”

“Niall-”

“-this becomes the norm? Xenophobia is a thing, Louis, and I can’t risk my patrons comfort and safety. I need to be sure-”

“Niall-”

“-that everyone in my pub, employee or not, is safe. It’s not like I’ll have a cover charge or anything. Just a little security to ensure their safety. They’d be okay with that, yeah? I mean if this is the world we live in then I don’t think I-”

Louis does what he knows will get Niall to shut up, he kisses him. He smiles into the kiss when he feels and hears Niall’s muffled shout of surprise. He finds it comforting that he doesn’t feel weird with Niall like this. Almost like it’s meant to be or something. He pulls back and quickly places a finger to the other’s lips. “Listen to me. The pub will be fine. There’s no need to hire bouncers.”

Niall nods, listening for once.

“Now, if you’re done worrying over nothing, I’d really like to kiss you again.”

\------------

There’s a knock on the door at nine sharp Thursday morning. Niall was more than happy to answer it since Louis was still in the shower singing some song in French. He feels light and free this morning and maybe it’s because he woke up with Louis wrapped in his arms and then proceeded to wake up the man with small kisses, but he knows today is going to be a good day.

He hums to himself as he makes his way to the door, not even caring about his state of undress. He’s got pants on and, honestly, what more could one ask for at nine in the morning? His mussed up hair from Louis’ fingers running through it seems to bounce as he walks and his smile never leaves his face as he opens the door. “Hello?”

“I’m looking for Louis. I’m here to take him home to Paris.”

\------------

“You can’t just do that to me every time you get bored! I’ve been shoved into guest rooms and then forced to sleep alone as you stuck your fucking cock in her every night in your office! Why? Why should I believe that I’m finally enough for you? You throw me out and then expect me to come crawling back six days later? I offered to change for you! I told you that I was willing to look the other way so you could have your whore and you told me no. What changed?”

Liam frowns and crosses his arms over his chest. “What does it matter? I’m offering you a place back in Parisian society. We can just write this whole week off a much needed holiday for you. No one will have to know about my whores. No one will know about my secretary. Look, I’ve even set plans for us to go to away to the Carribean for awhile. So we can get back in sync with each other.”

Louis looks at the man who controlled his life for three years. Shiny trinkets won’t be enough to persuade him this time. “You told me I meant nothing to you.”

“And I was wrong. Please, Louis, come back with me.” Liam steps forward and takes the younger male’s hand and sinks down on one knee. “Not as a boyfriend, not as a trinket, not as a prisoner to our home. Be my betrothed, be my fiance, be my husband.” He slips the gaudy silver band encrusted with sapphire’s onto Louis’ finger and looks pleadingly up at the boy.

“Liam, I…” Louis doesn’t know how to say what he’s feeling. “I can’t. There’s just… There’s so much for me here and I… I want to explore a life without you.”

Liam huffs and pulls away from Louis, anger in his eyes. “Is it him? Have you already been fucked by him then? I should have known the second you gave me an address. _Faible, petit_ Louis can never be on his own. He always needs a bank account and fucking cock to suck. You were greedy when I met you in Doncaster and you’re even worse now that I’ve given you a taste of the high life. You stay here. This was a mistake coming to take you back. At least I still have Cheryl in Paris- my wonderfully pregnant secretary. Maybe she’ll take what I can offer her unlike you.”

He storms past Louis, pushing him to the floor as he goes. He looks down at his once lover and spits at his feet. “Your clothes are in the trunk in the living room of this hovel. I am washing my hands of you forever. _Au revoir ma bite à sucer pute_.”

\------------

Niall calls them out of work that night and they stay curled up on the couch listening to Sinatra croon. He cards his fingers gently through Louis’ hair trying to think of anything that might cheer the boy up. “Hey. Do you want to watch a movie?”

“You don’t like movies,” Louis mumbles. He just wants to go back to how things were this morning before Liam barged into the flat and demanded Louis return to Paris with him. “I’m fine with listening to Frank Sinatra.”

“How about Casablanca? Show me what I’ve been missing.” Niall stops the music playing from his phone and quickly searches till he finds a streaming service that has the movie. “Come on. Humphrey Bogart will cheer you right up.”

He presses play, he holds Louis a bit tighter.

\------------

_“You still owe me ten thousand franks.”_

_“And that ten thousand franks should pay our expenses.”_

_“Our expenses?”_

_“Mhmm.”_

_“Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”_

The music swells as the shot fades to the ending picture and Niall smiles. “That was really good. And it was in English so I could understand everything this time. I can see why it’s a classic.”

Louis, while he hadn’t moved from his spot in Niall’s arms, was at least smiling and seemed in better spirits. “It’s such a good movie. A bit sad that they didn’t end up together, but they’ll always have Paris.”

“Everything comes back to Paris.” 

“Of course. It’s all that matters,” Louis said seriously. His time in Paris may be tainted by an emotionally abusive relationship, but he’d never regret his choice to go. He’s seen the most romantic city in the world. He’s woken up to the cries of an anguished city after terrorist attacks and to cries of celebration after the election of a new _Président_. He’s seen the Eiffel Tower every morning and every night for three years straight. He’s lived so close to the Seine that he can recall the smell and feel the light Paris breeze on his skin. He loved Paris and he’ll never regret their time together.

He sighs tiredly and lays his head back on Niall’s chest. “I think, if I ever get married, I want my honeymoon there. I want to make a new set of memories without Liam in them. He tainted my city enough for one lifetime.”

\------------

It’s Friday afternoon in the pub and the crew are getting ready for the hordes of people who come in to destress after long work week. Niall has calculated just how much Louis has made so far and averages what he’ll make for the current day and the next and adding in his tip jar for the week. He smiles as he looks at the nice lump of cash Louis should have to help settle him back North.

He pushes back from the books and grabs sixty pence from his junk drawer. He heads out into the pub area, laughing as he sees Louis sitting on the bar annoying Zayn. “Louis! Get your arse off that. We put people’s food and drink there.”

Louis jumps down, fake saluting before bounding over to Niall. He thinks nothing of it as he stretches up and presses his lips against the taller man’s own. “Of course, boss.”

Rolling his eyes, Niall throws an arm around Louis’ waist and presses a quick kiss to his temple. “Here. 60p to place a call at the telephone booth outside. Go call your family and tell them you’ll be home soon. I calculated everything and you’ll make a hefty little sum of dosh to get you up there and help you stand once you’re there.”

“Of course. Nearly forgot about them. Isn’t that crazy? I haven’t seen my family in three years and I nearly forgot I needed to call them.” He takes the change and hums happily as he heads towards the door.

Once he’s gone, Zayn quirks an eyebrow at his boss and friend. “Kissing now? Is that how the Parisians do it then?”

Niall can feel his ears turning red. “It just sort of happened the other night. We got back to my place after the incident and I was so worried and I was rambling about safety and everything and then he just sort of… Kissed me. It’s fine though. It’s just kissing. It’s nothing else. His, uh, hid boyfriend from Paris stopped by yesterday and tried to take him back to France. Even proposed to Louis; didn’t seem like he was taking no for an answer. Louis told him no though and he finally left. We’re just… It’s only kissing.”

Harry smiles like he knows something as he pops his head out of the kitchen. “But that’s how it starts. That’s how Emma and I started. ‘Oh, it’s just kissing.’ Now we’re in our fifth year of dating and talking marriage.”

“Exactly. I’m just saying, you need to be careful. He’s leaving on Sunday and you’re falling for him.” Zayn shakes his head as he wipes the counter down.

\------------

Louis takes a deep breath as he hears the ringing of his family’s phone in his ear. He can’t believe he’s doing this.

“Hello?”

That’s not a voice he recognises. “Um, hello. I’m looking for the Tomlinson-Deakin household. This is the correct number, yes?”

“Oh, no. This is the Baker’s residence now. The Tomlinson-Deakins moved out about a year ago. Poor man lost his wife to cancer and had six children still living with him. I don’t think they left a forwarding address either. Let me check for you, love.”

There’s a rustling noise of paper and the muffled voice of the older woman in his ear, but Louis isn’t really paying attention. All he can properly grasp is word cancer and fact that this woman said his mother was dead. But she had been perfectly fine when he left.

“No, it doesn’t seem like they left a forwarding address. I’m sorry, love. I do hope you find them. Have a wonderful day.”

There’s a ever telling click and Louis’ world crashes around him for the second time in the span of a week.

\------------

The mood in the pub turns depressing the second Louis returns back inside. He talk to no one and just tries to get through his shift as best he can.

\------------

It’s Sunday morning before he finally tells Niall. They’re sitting down for breakfast and Niall is rattling off the train times table when he just blurts it out. “I’m not going.”

He’s expecting a fight. He’s expecting Niall to be angry. He’s expecting literally anything except what comes out of Niall’s mouth. “Okay.”

They talk it over. Niall holds him at the appropriate times and Louis knows now that even if his family was still there, he couldn’t leave Niall. When the taller man finally is able to mke Louis laugh through his tears, he knows he’s found someone special.

He leans up and kisses desperately at the brunet, waiting him to understand just how much he’s come to mean to Louis in such a short amount of time.

Niall loses himself in the kiss and tries to savour the moment. When they finally break away from each other for air, he smiles brightly and rubs his thumb gently under Louis’ eye to wipe a stray tear from his face. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you had to walk into mine.”


End file.
